Destiny: Emergence
by Monkey Pillows
Summary: *PREQUEL TO OUTCASTS* The origin stories of Marcus, Ashur, and Theriad. How they became a Fireteam, what struggles they endured, and their ultimate triumph. Set during the main storyline.
1. Chapter 1

_I have extracted the fluids within the central processing unit of these Vex frames. The fluid seems to be a sort of… data milk. Each one houses a different variation of this liquid, and it seems to be the frame's life force. My hypothesis about the Vex being a fluid race was indeed confirmed through what I found the fluid to be made of. Radioloria. This is the Vex's mind, and the organism seems to be living_ inside _this liquid. Hobgoblins, goblins, and Minotaurs are all different frames for this radioloria. Goblins are obviously the most basic form of this fluid, diverse fighters with no real purpose. They can be used as either religious entities or offensive fodder. Hobgoblins being made for defense house a different form of this data milk, which seems to be specified to defensive strategies. Meanwhile the minotaurs have a very different form of this fluid, its purpose still unclear. Through further investigation I may be able to uncover every Vex frame's purpose, down to the chemical makeup of their bronzish metal, their power source, etc. This concludes my studies on Vex frames and life forces._

Ashur wrote all of that with the frame of the Goblin in front of him, his hands prying inside its mechanics.

He knew not to touch the workings of the Vex without protection, i.e. a glove of some sort. Their metal seemed to house some kind of radioactive material that tainted the mind, did weird things to the body. The fluid itself was hard to study as well, as its properties are hard to maintain out of its glassy outer casing.

"Ghost. Get me a scan on the ocular systems. I want to see how this thing… sees." Ashur said, studying the material of which the outercasing was made of.

The mesh itself seemed to be made of some sort of transparent fiberglass material. Its elemental consistency literally matched that of fiberglass, but the only difference was the fact that it was able to be seen through. _Weird._

He squinted his eyes, turning behind him to another desk and pulling a thin sheet of the material, fiberglass. Of course, it was unsanded and untreated, this would require primitive measurements and observations.

With one careful hand, he removed another section of the glassy outer casing, prying around at the inactive and dead organisms within the data milk. Carefully, he extracted the sludge-like fluid and delicately poured it over his untreated piece of fiberglass on a seperate work table.

Three of them littered his cramped living space, and the fourth table was merely a workbench with a matress on it, of which he usually threw out of his room to make more space for his studies. The room had four walls and was roughly 6 feet all the way across, from one wall to the other. The fact that the room was a square meant that the other sections of the walls were 6 feet long as well.

Meanwhile, the fiberglass seemed to be treating itself. Very slowly, Ashur figured it was because the radioloria wasn't living anymore, and that its chemical properties weren't the only thing that made the fiberglass transparent. He jotted his discovery down, just as his Ghost chirped across the room.

"I scanned it. You know, you really should get out more. I mean, look at your weapons, Ashur. Your handcannon is quite literally rusted to its holster." The Ghost said, taking a collective pause before continuing. "And I have a name, you know. I'm not just _Ghost_. It's not _Ghost do this_ or _Ghost do that_. It's Angel." The female voice retorted back.

Ashur merely winced and asked, "And what did you find? What did the ocular systems contain?"

"Nothing too fancy. It acts merely as a camera, but you already knew that. The substance it's made out of tends to be the same kind of glass found… well, within the Vault of Glass… or at least that's what my reports are gathering. So yeah, nothing too special. Just an eye."

Ashur took out another deep breath, mixing the stale air in his lungs and exhaling the carbon dioxide, polluting his workspace even further and depriving the crammed workspace more than it already was.

"Alright. I'll mark it down in my record." He spat, reaching to his shelf of books and plucking one with a goldish bronze binding, clearly symbolizing the Vex. It had an embroidered _II_ on it, his second study of the mechanical race. This one included everything from their ocular systems, as well as other inner workings, such as arm movements, the wiring, materials, etc.

He opened to his final pages, the only ones that don't have hasty drawings or scribbles in them, and began scratching at the paper with his pen until the research was jotted down. After that, he jammed the book right where it went, in between his Fallen records and his Cabal records. _Which really do need expanding…_

"I know what you're thinking, and no. They do not need any more additions. Please, go outside and catch some air. It's bad enough you're keeping yourself in here with nothing but a Vex corpse to keep you company… and well, me, but that doesn't matter. Go out, to the Cosmodrome. Gather some field data-"

"FIELD DATA! Ah, yes! Thank you… Angel." Ashur tried, almost stumbling on the name, making it sound like it was the first time he'd ennunciated it. "That's exactly what I will do. My Fallen archive needs expansion anyways, and I would like to add in another section dedicated to the makeup of Spinmetal."

With that, he threw the door to his living quarters open and into a narrow hallway, one of which he walked to the end and threw open yet another door, his Ghost trying to make pace with him as he jogged.

"Ah, but I forbid you going out without the right equipment." Angel tried. "I have a perfectly fine handcannon, I'll have you know." He said back without much sustenance. "Really? Pull it out."

His hand darted to his left side, reaching for the grip of the gun and attempting to pry it out of its holding place. But the gun didn't move any further. His Ghost had been right, it was quite literally molded to the sheath.

His palm tried to focus fire to the place, to make the metal easier to pluck out without Angel noticing, but he ended up searing his thigh and screaching a small bit internally.

"See? Go talk to the gunsmith." Angel said, disappearing in Ashur's cloak as he lazily sauntered to the Gunsmith's operating table.

When he got there, another Guardian had began to walk away from the table, and the gunsmith noticed Ashur immediately. "I always recognize the faces I see the least." He muttered in a deep, harsh sounding voice.

Ashur put the gun on the table, rusted holster and all. The gunsmith took one look at the gun before smacking it behind him, off the table. "That is a disgrace. Need to keep it well-oiled. I suppose you are requesting another one?" He asked, but it came out as an order rather than a question.

That was when Angel flew forward, materializing some of the codeable currency, Glimmer, on the table. Enough for a few guns and then some. The gunsmith's artificial eyes widened, as he pulled out a few of his best weapons without haste.

There was three. One was a Suros Scout Rifle, made for precision, encrusted across the weapon was the gold outline of a dragon. Not the standard red and white look, but it still made for excellent decorum. The next was an Omolon Fusion Rifle, but instead of it being a darker color scheme, the Omolon foundry decided to paint it pearl white, complete with a red optic sight. That was pretty as well. The final gun was a machine gun, obviously looking like a prototype. It was a Hakke make, big and bulky like the design they took. Nothing made it too special, but Ashur knew well enough to conclude that it packed a big enough punch.

"All yours." He muttered, sliding the guns to Ashur and the Glimmer to him.

Ashur blinked.

Instead of waiting like an idiot, his Ghost decided to materialize all of the weapons, adding them to his 'backpack' and left Ashur nothing but to saunter away again.

"Where did you get all of that Glimmer?" He asked curiously. His Ghost merely glanced at him, then saying, "Gambling." And looking the other direction. Ashur looked confused at first, but shrugged his shoulders and continued walking.

"Now to get you a ship."

…

Ashur walked into the hangar, taking note of his surroundings.

It was all very noisy. He noticed that much. To his right, ships constantly flew in and out, making a large amount of noise as they did so. To his left was a small setup for the Faction Dead Orbit, which wasn't too obnoxiously loud, but did add to the volume of the place. Straight ahead led downstairs, where frames and tools were worked on, as well as where a lot of Guardians ended up lounging and kicking back, not helping with the noise problem. And to his semi-right was Amanda Holiday, who was probably the loudest addition to the Hangar.

Not that she as a person was loud, just that her work was. She constantly had an engine or mechanism in front of her, and her tinkering was not that of the silent type. She always had a loud tool in hand, or was dropping large metallic tools. Ashur winced at a loud banging noise as he ascended the stairs to her workshop.

When he reached the top, she went silent for a quick second, giving the Warlock ample time to assert himself.

"I am Ashur, and I request-" "Sorry, buddy. No can do right now. I gotta get this warp drive back into that sucker before she blows," The mechanic gestured behind her, to a shaking ship that was obviously running. Her hands moved without complication, navigating through wires and plucking what she didn't need out, adding what she did need with the same grace.

"Right, but," He began. She held up one hand, then saying, "Quiet. I gotta focus." While Ashur looked around him.

 _The noisiest part in the hangar and she needs silence to focus?_ He thought to himself.

He obeyed her requests, though, and ended up being mesmerized by her work. It was as if they were following a pattern, a rhythym of some sort. They did everything without failure, and for some reason Ashur just could not look away.

Then, the loudest crashing noise surfaced the hangar as a broken down Arcadia Class jumpship entered the hangar, not with the grace he had been witnessing. It smacked the bottom of the hangar, sliding across it and sending sparks flying as it did so. It slammed into a wall, correcting itself and sliding once again back to the docking side, the platform where Ashur was standing.

The noise was so loud that even Holiday turned her head, putting down the warp drive and muttering something foul directed to the driver of the ship.

The cockpit opened, as a thin figure exited, stumbling all over the place and collapsing on the ship.

A few Guardians rushed forward, jumping onto the ship and picking the figure up, carrying him back on a makeshift stretcher. It was a Creeper, something the mechanics laid on to be able to slide and manuver under ships easier.

Ashur and Holiday walked down, as Holiday muttered, "Who in the hell?" While Ashur thought the same thing. The Guardians got the figure back onto the main platform, beginning to walk him out of the Hangar while Holiday and Ashur caught up.

Holiday peeked her head over, while Ashur listened to his words.

They were nothing but babbling, almost like a baby was speaking. Phrases like, "Woops. My apogees. I messed up your cubby."

As soon as Holiday peeked over, however, he froze and was dead silent. The man was obviously in some sort of traumatic episode. He lifted a hand, pointing at Holiday and saying, "She's very pretty. Very very pretty." As he put his hands down, closing his eyes as they rolled to the back of his head. Holiday stopped, giving Ashur a chance to examine the man.

There was a Ghost flittering by his side, but the man himself was dressed in tattered rags, and bits of his skin were showing through. They were bloody and in turn made the clothes he was wearing a darkish brown color. He had obviously bleed all over the clothes at one point or another, and these newer wounds did nothing to change the already crimson look.

His face was covered in dirt aside from the blood, where Ashur noticed he had both sides of his head busted in.

An indenture in his head seeped blood, where no breaking of the skull had been reported but the skin itself seemed to be cut open. More blood spewed out of his mouth, where he coughed and gurgled.

His hair was of course messy as well, caked in blood. It was naturally brown, trimmed short at the sides and messy on the top. Much like Ashur's, though his was blonde. He ran a hand quickly through his beach blonde hair, looking at the man bob his head from side to side, as if confused in his location.

He stopped following them, and turned to face Amanda again. She was beginning to saunter back to her post, the sides of her face red as if she were blushing. He ran up to her, then asking, "What about that ship I asked about?"

She turned to Ashur, with a squinted expression on her face, as if recalling a distant thought when her face lit up and her eyes went wide. "The warpdrive!"

She sprinted back to her workplace, picking up the small part while Ashur jogged alongside. She plucked more wires, shoving others in and sealing the opening off, tossing it to a frame over the side of the platform. The robot caught it, moving to the stuttering and shaking ship that was fixing to explode.

Of course, the frame did his work quickly and the ship suddenly calmed down. The warpdrive solved the ship's problems. She then turned to Ashur, asking him, "What can I get you?" as if the whole episode had never happened.

…

"...he's losing blood…" "...his Ghost…" "...three cases of internal bleeding…" "...goner for sure…"

Theriad slammed his body upright, as if awakening from a horrible dream.

His temples hurt, and he could feel blood caked on the top of his head. _Ow._ He groaned, putting a careful hand to each side of his head and feeling around.

His wounds were gone. The two indentions in his head were gone, no longer seeping blood. He ran his hands all throughout his chest, not feeling the previous fleshwounds that were bestowed on him by Fallen sabres and knives, the two headwounds coming from fists and bludgeons. Where his tattered garb once was, sleek white clothes had been given to him. But it wasn't matching that of any _real_ clothes, they were rather thin armor-wear. He felt the material. _Definitely not cloth._ He thought to himself. All in all, he seemed okay. Everything was fine on his end. No limbs lost, no excessive bleeding, no pain. Everything was how he wanted it to be.

He leaped off of the bed he was staying on, walking around the infirmary, or at least what he assumed to be the infirmary. On the other beds, no one else was occupying them. It was just him alone. That and the constant beeping of the machines, as if the Tower had really needed them. He began to walk to a door, readied the handle to open it when a small robotic shape fluttered in front of him. "Hello." It spoke in a male voice.

The appearance itself scared Theriad half to death, but the voice talking out of nowhere caught him off guard, and he tumbled backwards and almost tripped. His back hit the ground and he looked at the small shape… a Ghost.

"A… Ghost?" he asked, getting himself back up from the ground and in a standing position. "Yes. Great observation." It sarcastically chimed. If a Ghost could roll its eyes, this one certainly did. "Hah. Great with the sarcasm. What… What are you doing here?" He asked, almost as if he knew the answer deep down.

If something happened after his beat down, he didn't really remember it. It was all hazy, like trying to remember a specific dream that had happened years prior. If something _did_ happen that caused this Ghost to be following him after he had gotten beat to a pulp, he didn't recall.

"Well. I suppose it's normal for you to not be able to recall these events. You were quite the wreck when I saw you. Of course, I wasn't linked to you quite yet, couldn't really do much other than just watch you. But that's changed now."

Theriad stepped back more, holding his head in one hand and beginning a question. "Wait… You're my Ghost? And what do you mean _that's changed now._ "

"That means that you are a Guardian. A Hunter if ever I've seen one," The Ghost paused for effect, which seemed to work on Theriad. "And… you kinda died." To this, Theriad's expression tensed and his face went red. "I mean, you didn't really _die._ You maintained consciousness but your heart stopped, which was enough to classify you as dead. And if you're wondering, yes, I could have linked with you before your 'death' but the bonds are stronger recognized if I am paired with you in your dead state." The Ghost explained.

"So… You mean to say that I am among the Dead? The Ressurected?"

"Yes. You are a Guardian."

"So I can use Light?"

"Yes, but-"

"Which means that I can't die?!"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Oh hell yeah!"

"Wait! Hold on! I need to ask you some questions before we leave. No one knows you're up yet, and being a newbie who knows the next time I'll be able to ask you these kinds of questions uninterrupted." To this, Theriad raised an eyebrow, then saying, "Shoot."

"Okay. What do you remember? About your past life?"

"Well… I remember being alone, in the wilderness. I remember my parents, how they died, where I went… I remember everything. Nothing's really changed." He answered.

"Alright. What's your name?"

"My name? Oh, right. My name is Theriad… Theriad Hawke." the Hunter answered. But before the Ghost could ask another question, Theriad asked, "How long have you been with me? Scratch that, when and why were you with me? I have no recollection of you in my memory."

"Ah. Well, if you didn't know you were kind of… well… engaged in a Fallen skirmish. They got the best of you, but didn't kill you for Traveler knows why, and you crawled as far as you could. And I kind of found you. I thought you were just a civilian, some lost explorer or something, but then I found that you carried Light. I corraled you to a ship, and you did your best to fly it… didn't really work out so well. Kind of broke down as we entered the hangar." The Ghost answered. Theriad supposed it was well enough to count as an answer.

"Wait. One more question. Who was the girl I saw? When those other people were carrying me… somewhere."

…

Ashur paced into the Vanguard Hall, looking at his three commanders as he entered their presence. They turned to him, each one with a joyous type of expression riddled on their face.

"Ah, Ashur. My… Warlock." Cayde said. Ikora greeted him with a slight nod, and Zavala had the look of someone who didn't recognize him. "Greetings. You know who we are, correct?" Zavala asked. _Who doesn't know who you are?_ He thought in an annoyed tone.

"Yes. Why is it you requested me?" Ashur asked, still slightly annoyed. He could be doing research right now. Adding to his books. Instead, he was here dealing with whatever mess his enemies decided to create.

Why couldn't they get that through their heads? He was a Warlock, a scholar. Not a fighter. He did the research. Only fought when he needed to, obviously for the sake of more research. Which guns kill best? What effects Fallen shielding best? Etc. With a sigh, he began to listen more intently.

Cayde stepped forward. "Well, there's been a new arrival in our ranks. A new Guardian. Hunter, by the looks of him," Cayde said, almost in a proud tone. "I can tell I'm going to like him. Anywho, he's a lone wolf type. Doesn't have anyone to chaperone him. And since everyone else is either paired with another Guardian or two, or simply doesn't need a Hunter," He paused again, angrily spitting the last portion of the sentence. "We've assigned him to you."

Ashur felt a red hot flash of anger glaze across his face. It was one thing if they called him in for a field assignment of some sort. Something along the lines of, _Kill this_ or _Blow this up._ At least then he could still gather _some_ field intelligence. Now he kind of wished that he had taken the latter, or at least hoped for it.

"What? But he's a newbie, and-" Ashur began. Ikora stopped him midway. "Right, but unfortunately you are a newbie as well, to the field at least. Your studies are fantastic, but those only get you so far." She stated. Ashur held back the urge to stare her down, as if he was a rebellious child receiving a lecture from his parents. But he knew that wouldn't help his case, especially since he had just received a compliment on his studies from the _Warlock Vanguard._

"You're going to help him out around here. Maybe go out and kill some Fallen. Who knows? Maybe you'll even become best pals!" Cayde inserted. Ashur didn't hold back the urge to stare daggers into him, but it had no effect.

Ashur knew how the Hunters were. They preferred to either brave it alone or be the stupid one of the group. They could care less about studies or information. It didn't matter _who_ the Hunter had once been, all of them were like that in nature. Something with their cockiness or their ego...

"He's in the infirmary now. Go to him, and report back here once you get him the proper gear and knowledge of our home." Zavala ordered, looking away from Ashur and down at the table, where a map was sprawled out beneath him.

…

Ashur approached the door to the infirmary, which was a floor below the balcony. He pushed it open delicately, only to see who he assumed to be the figure, only with less blood on him this time, talking to his Ghost.

Before he could shut it and return to his studies with the excuse of him still being asleep, the two noticed him. _Damnit._ He thought to himself. _Well. Here goes nothing._

They immediately ceased their conversation as Ashur walked into the room. He shut the door behind him, looking straight into the Hunter's eyes. "Looks like I'm your sherpa. You're with me for now." Ashur spat, gesturing for the Newborn to follow him out.

"Oh… Okay?" Theriad answered. "What's your name?" The Hunter asked. "Ashur." The Warlock muttered. "Hmm. That sounds mystical. Mine's Theriad." He answered in a friendly tone. "Hmmf." Ashur grunted, making his way to the elevator, which would lead them to the balcony.

"So what're we doing?" he asked, once the silence of the elevator began to calm Ashur. He let out a sigh of anguish, then answered. "We're getting you geared up. We'll have to talk to the Gunsmith, then to the Speaker, and finally to the Vanguards."

"Can we meet… Holiday?" He asked, pondering the name a little more. Ashur raised an eyebrow, remembering his comment about her when he was being carried to the infirmary. "Well, I guess that you will need a ship, but…" His voice trailed off.

 _Wait. Exploitable weakness?_

"Why? You got a fondness for her or something?" He asked, staring at the Hunter, who wasn't making eyecontact but instead was still giving him all he needed to know through silence. His cheeks turned rose red, like a schoolkid being asked whether he or she has a crush on someone. _Works everytime._ Ashur said to himself. "Yeah. Let's go meet her." The Warlock chortled.

 **Author's Note:**

 **I wanted to make a prequel to Outcasts, explaining the other three's origin and devloping their characters more than what is in Outcasts, as Outcasts is focused on, well... the Outcasts.**

 **But at the same time I wanted to make a Destiny story you can read without having read the other one. This story is going to go all the way until the moment they met the Outcasts, and I have a lot to cover and a lot planned. Hope you guys enjoy.**

 **Read, review, and rate.**

 **And don't forget to check out Outcasts if you haven't already. You can find it on my profile.**


	2. Chapter 2

_The Cabal are an interesting enemy. These aliens take pride in their ambiguity, as their very namesake translates into a secret political faction. Their ideals are unknown, as are their goals. For the sake of research, however, I am forced to state that they are here for our Solar System, based on previous accounts. They are also known for their brute force, which I have explained in elaborate detail in Volume III._

 _Their leadership is something that intrigues me. Not because it is unique, but because it is modeled very similar to more ancient times. Our System's records indicate that there are 9 factions, or 'Legions'. Their leadership filters as follows: Primus, Valus, Val, Bracus. Primus is to be seen as an admiral, having control over their Legion and not anyone else's. Each Legion keeps mostly to themselves, and not many side-by-side battles have been recorded. Valus is subordinate to Primus, Val is subordinate to Valus, etc. I have also found that-_

 _KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!_

Ashur dropped his pen, and his head jerked back to where the sound had originated. His door. Angel then materialized in front of him, explaining, "It's Theriad,"

Before he could fully stand, he barked, "Tell him I am busy," But the door flew open regardless. "Hey there pal!" He said, running in place. "Let's go out and kill some aliens!"

His hair was messy as usual on the top, and the sides, also, as usual, remained trimmed and cut. Sweat was running down his forehead and his armor was new and shiny and ornate. "I'm busy." Ashur echoed. Theriad didn't take it, though.

He walked, or rather ran in place, over to Ashur's desk. "Whatcha writing?" He asked, as Ashur picked up the pen again. "A book." Ashur answered dully. "Shut the door." The Warlock barked.

"Nuh-uh. Nope. Not until you agree to come outside with me and GO KILL SOME ALIEN BASTARDS!" He shouted, taking out his handcannon and twirling it with effect, making fake gun noises and pointing it around.

It had been 2 weeks since Theriad had been first resurrected. And it had been two weeks since he had pondered death itself. _Ah. The sweet release of it._

In those 14 long and excruciating days, he had taken Theriad out to Venus, where he studied the anatomy of Vex up close, and where Theriad put a handcannon bullet in every Goblin corpse Ashur could come across that was intact. As soon as he would get his hands inside and begin prying about, a stray bullet completely destroyed the specimen.

And it had been 14 days since Ashur had been alone, and 14 days since he had experienced true silence. He missed that. Silence.

"Theriad. Please. Leave me to my studies." Ashur coldly requested. The demeanor his voice gave made Theriad calm down almost instantaneously. He put his handcannon back, took a backwards step out of the door, and shut it as silently as he could.

"Finally. Now, I can relish in the silence." Ashur muttered. Then, Angel appeared.

"Ashur. I know that you are dedicated to your studies, as are most Warlocks," She reasoned, her tone being gentle and kind. "But you are possibly the only Guardian Theriad knows. He's probably coming off as overbearing because you're most likely his only friend in this new world. Quite possibly ever."

Ashur rolled his eyes, then saying, "All Hunters know how to socialize. Maybe this is better. He is gonna go out and find some other sorry Guardian to go hunting with. To become friends with."

Angel disappeared, saying through her stasis form, "I hope you're right. He needs someone, just like everyone else did."

"I didn't need anyone."

…

The Hunter took a deep breath as he stepped out further from the door.

 _I'm pushing him too far away._ He thought to himself. Theriad shook his head from side to side, grunting and walking to the Tower Balcony. "What to do, what to do…" his voice trailed.

"You could always go see Amanda." His Ghost suggested. Theriad jumped at his sudden appearance and speech but nonetheless listened. He thought about it a moment, weighing it all out as a decision.

"Yeah, but ever since I've been awake I've been going over to the Hangar. I'm running low on excuses." He argued. His Ghost replied with, "Well, that handcannon is a Tex Mechanica make. You can probably get her to fix it. I know she has an extensive knowledge on that foundry." Slowly, a smile creased Theriad's lips until he realized a flaw in the Ghost's plan. "But it isn't broken." He said flatly, pulling out the handcannon.

It had a Western look to it, like something that would have been ancient even before the Golden Age. It had a sleek look to it as well, with a wood pistol grip, gunmetal barrel, and a gold-encrusted top. The weapon was mass-produced by Tex Mechanica, but Theriad's felt special in a way. Probably because Amanda gave it to him, as well as put her own finishing touches on it. He felt giddy just thinking about her.

"Well, I mean…. It isn't broken _yet_." His Ghost smugly stated. That same smile that was there a moment ago found its way back onto Theriad's lips.

"You're pretty smart, Ghost. Quite the Einstein." Theriad muttered. "Einstein." He said again.

He began to walk faster, almost tripping himself with the pure enthusiasm of being able to see _her_ again.

His excitement got the bets of him as well. As he was venturing up a small flight of stairs to reach the entrance to the Tower Hangar, his form slammed right into another Guardian, who pushed him away but got closer to him at the same time.

"Watch it, newbie." A gruff Titan voice said. Theriad turned to face him, seeing his small posse walking with him. Three more Titans, standing with their arms crossed like they expected this to happen. Of course, they wouldn't wait for a response long, and he had to think of one before it was too late to spew one.

"If you weren't so big I wouldn't have to," Theriad muttered, turning and facing the other way in an attempt to back off _and_ get the final say.

"What was that?" The same voice called out. Theriad ignored it, just wanting to get to Amanda.

"Yeah. Walk away, Hunter. Coward." The Titan spat.

Theriad's face turned red, his footsteps coming to a screeching halt as he turned to face the other Guardian. His friends were, of course, snickering at the insult and at Theriad's reaction. "I'm sorry. What was that?" Theriad asked, giving the Titan another chance to change his wording.

"I said walk away, coward." The Titan barked.

Theriad reacted faster than the speed of light, landing a kick square in the Titan's chest plating. It didn't seem like it would do much, but it made the Guardian gasp for air. In the next moment, Theriad had tackled the Titan and threw him down a flight of stairs, still standing at the top as his enemy fell down them.

He looked down at the confused Titan and noticed a crowd of Guardians turning their attention to the fight. Theriad didn't care, however, and neither did the other Titans.

Two of his posse attacked at once, and Theriad had no choice but to back up to a railing. One went for a swing but was intercepted with a quick punch to the face, knocking him back a few steps as the other one had his knee kicked at, dislocating it on the spot. As the second fell to the ground screaming in agony, the only unscathed Titan and the one he had thrown down the flight of stairs reached him and prepared a synchronized blow.

One went into his gut, the Titan obviously holding nothing back as Theriad was deprived of oxygen for a few more moments. The second had another blow planned right for the Hunter's face, throwing him to the railing and coughing blood over the side of the Tower.

One landed a kick to his back which threw him even further into the rail, but Theriad swung his hand back across and knicked one in the jaw with his elbow, causing some damage as he weakly tried a jab at the last one's face.

It was unsuccessful and ended in his face taking yet another punch. Soon enough, Theriad looked worse than when he first arrived, beaten and bloodied on the ground. They were going to kill him no doubt, until a tall and lean Guardian stepped in, throwing two of the Titans back and decreeing, "There is no honor in a 4 to one fight, especially when you were almost bested." He spat. Obviously, the other Titans knew of him, because as soon as he had intervened they all stepped back in surrender.

He reached down and picked Theriad up, landing him back on his feet with a helpful hand and stating, "Settle this with a good old-fashioned Crucible match, to see who is not only the better man but the better _Guardian._ Don't start fist fights in our home. We aren't savages." His voice lectured. It was deep and low-toned, the typical Titan. His armor was black and yellow, and his face was concealed under a helmet.

But Theriad had never been in a Crucible match, hardly knew the rules. He knew that it was okay to kill other Guardians there. For the purpose of training and settling differences. And sometimes gambling. But as far as technicalities went he was clueless. He was still very new to the Guardian scene.

The Hunter also noticed the large group of other Guardians and citizens that had been spectating the fight. They all had their ears perked up waiting for both sides' responses.

"We accept." The leader of the posse growled. The Titan that had saved Theriad walked away and into the crowd of people while all ears awaited his response. "I accept." He finally spat. "You and what allies?" One of the Titans bellowed as the others seemed to snicker at Theriad's answer.

"I don't need allies." The Hunter retorted, staring daggers into the leader of the Titans, who was wiping away a line of blood from the corner of his mouth. He stared back. A surging "Ooooo." Went through the crowd of Guardians. A half-smirk came to Theriad's face.

…

 _In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose…_

Theriad wiped away a small bead of sweat that had trickled down his face. He scanned his environment nervously for the 8th time yet. They called this place Twilight Gap or at least a staging point of it. It was once home to a glorious battle. One that Theriad had not been awake for. Now it served as nothing more than a vantage point to the wilderness. In fact, Theriad almost remembered this place from his times. It seemed very familiar…

 _Begin!_ A voice boomed.

It was another Guardian that had patched into their comms, and one that was going to monitor this unorthodox Crucible match. Normally it was Lord Shaxx who would oversee them, but not this time. He was busy doing something and couldn't give Theriad and the other Titans permission to use this arena because of it.

 _Out through the mouth._

He charged forward, leaping over a small crate as he ascended stairs to the higher platform. A catwalk of sorts, leading to the second floor of what seemed to be an artillery position. "I'm detecting three of them directly ahead. You aren't going to win a 3 on 1 battle, especially with a handcannon." His Ghost informed. Theriad nodded, dashing to his left and into a more open room. Ahead was a dropoff, and to his left and right were doorways into separate areas of the playing field.

"Are you insulting my aim?" Theriad asked nervously. "No. I just know how… inaccurate handcannons tend to be. Also I'm picking up a loner right next to the dropoff."

Theriad quieted, stalking to the edge as his Ghost marked the heat signature's position. "I can see his Ghost, and he can likely see you. None of you have the element of surprise, at least you have the high ground." His Ghost added.

As his Ghost said it, the Titan from below came soaring above, likely using his ability to manipulate the air around him to create a lift.

Energy was built up around him, surging through his body ready to explode at any given time. "Duck!" his Ghost called.

Theriad did as he was told, right before the energy was unleashed and the Titan pushed his form forward with his shoulder out front. _That would have hurt._ Theriad thought to himself.

He didn't waste another second. He raised his handcannon, loosing a shot as fast as he could and landing one into the Titan's leg. The attacker groaned in agony as he tried to turn around, only to be met with three more shots to the chest.

The Titan's body fell to the ground as Theriad saw the other 3 charging at him. "Go! Now!" His Ghost called. Theriad didn't waste another second and slid off the ledge to the ground below. From there, he took to his right and sprinted.

"There's only three of them now. No revives so you just have to pick them off; one by one."

Then, the Titans landed behind him. Theriad risked a view behind and saw all that he needed to. Three Titans rushing to him angrily.

He took to the corner and leaned against the wall, ready to peak out and surprise one of the assailants. He reloaded his handcannon as fast as he could manage, hearing the footsteps of the Titans grow louder. They would be on him any second now.

Without hesitating any further, he turned the corner and fired as soon as he had seen them, not particularly aiming.

In total he loosed 5 shots into the crowd but had to turn away without being able to tell what damage they did. He ran full force towards a wall, planting both of his feet on it and pouncing off, landing on the upper platform with grace.

He began to wonder how and where he had learned that because it seemed like a primitive instinct rather than his conscious thoughts. Oh _yeah. I do remember this place._ Theriad thought to himself. It was somewhere he had hidden one time, seeking refuge from the Fallen that were chasing him. He knew why he had made that maneuver. He had set a trap under the stairs a long time ago, for the Fallen if they were after him. Lucky for him they didn't set it off, so that left a Titan to-

 _BOOM!_

Theriad gave a slight chuckle as he saw the explosion leave scorch marks on the wall, plastering it with Titan gear as well. And some not so desirable parts of the Titan. Namely flesh.

That was all the warning he needed to understand that the Titans were onto him. He turned the other way but was met with the bulk figure of a Titan. One had flanked him from behind.

Without thinking, he raised his handcannon and loosed a single bullet, but the Titan swatted the gun away before any other advancements could be made.

With his free hand, the Titan released a void-empowered fist and threw Theriad back into a wall. His ribs stung with pain and he found it increasingly hard to breathe. Sitting up, he noticed the last two Titans slowly walking to him, tossing their weapons to the side and raising their fists. Ignoring the pain, Theriad stood, clutching his right side where the pain was.

"So be it." He muttered, throwing his helmet down and spitting blood on the ground. His hand went for a knife just as one of the Titans swung, his fist crackling with arc power. The knife caught the Titan in the wrist, obviously causing him much pain as Theriad gave an underhand toss with a knife which landed in the Titan's head.

The blade landed right in the helmet, but apparently didn't do much past that. The Titan threw his helmet to the ground and the second one advanced.

A punch landed to Theriad's face, disorienting him. The Titan that had landed the punch threw him into a wall a distance away. The two opposers began to walk to him as he was standing back up, a sharp pain shooting up his spine.

He wondered who was watching them. Who was spectating this match? Probably a lot of people. From what he could tell, these Titans were Crucible champions, and Theriad was just a newbie. If he caused this much damage to their team, he must be doing something right.

His thoughts halted as the Titans reached him. One bent down to Theriad's level, crouching down and saying, "Heh. You did good, kid. For a newborn." He spat. It sounded more of an insult rather than a compliment, but that didn't matter to Theriad.

He quickly wrapped his legs around the Titan's head, throwing the Titan's face into the wall to their side. He pulled the Titan back, kicking him away as the second one rushed up to Theriad.

But he was stopped. A figure had appeared, transmatting right in front of their eyes. "Stop!" He shouted.

It was Ashur.

The Titans stood back at first, but then realized who it was. "Ashur? Pesky Warlock." They scoffed. Theriad could feel Ashur's expression tightening, and one of the Titans put their fists up. "Come on, Warlock. Let's box."

The Titan took a swing at Ashur, who dodged out of the way and sent his palm forward, flames bursting from his hand and swiping at the Titan's face. He backed away in agony, as the second one tackled Ashur and threw him into a wall.

Theriad looked at the burned Titan, who focused his rage instead on Theriad. His body began to electrify, his fists raging with the same energy Theriad noticed from the first Titan. He ran forward, to the crippled and weak Hunter, leaping into the air and preparing to slam the ground.

But before he could reach the ground, another form slammed right into him with the same electricity that the opposer was using.

The shear force threw the Titan into the wall, causing a dent in the iron structure and crippling the Titan right out. His savior waltzed to the void Titan who had stopped his beat down on Ashur, and landed a crippling blow to the gut, bringing his knee up to the Titan's head which either killed him or landed him to the ground unconscious.

The savior turned to Theriad's enemies, saying, "I respected you four. But you have shown me that there is no honor in your ranks. You have lost my allegiance and respect, cowards." The Titan spat.

It was the same one that had separated them at first, decorated in his ornate black and yellow armor.

"Titan 'v' Warlock Ex Machina." Theriad muttered. His glare darted to Theriad. "My name is Marcus and you have earned my respect. Great fight, Hunter." He complimented. Theriad stood and brushed whatever was on his shoulders off, offering an extended hand. "Name's Theriad." He informed. The Titan nodded.

With that, he left Theriad with his Warlock friend. "Ashur!" The Hunter exclaimed, rushing to the crippled body of the Warlock, his rib jabbing at his side and causing more pain.

The blond-haired Warlock looked up at Theriad, blood caking his face. "Did we win?" He asked with a blood-toothed smile. "Yes. Yes we did." Theriad chuckled. He hefted the Warlock up, once again ignoring the sharp pain at his side. "Let's get you back to your ship." Angel materialized Ashur away from Theriad's side. Theriad's Ghost did the same shortly after.

…

Theriad limped to the Hangar, the one place he had wanted to go for the entire day. _Heh._

He began to think more and more of the Crucible match as he walked through the Hangar entrance. He passed through several small glass doorways, walking down the hall and popping random thoughts into his head.

Ashur had left him to get some rest at the infirmary. Theriad, on the other hand, snuck out to see Amanda. Regardless, what was the point of an infirmary when you had a Ghost that could constantly give you life again and again. _Oh well._

He finally reached the hangar and sauntered up Amanda's stairs to her workplace.

As usual, she had her hands in something greasy or mechanical. This time it appeared to be a frame. "Whatcha doin?" Theriad asked as the pain resurfaced in his side. She darted her head to the side as a grin surfaced her face.

"I was wondering when you would be coming." She said. "You weren't here when you usually are."

That was when she noticed the bandages plastered on his forehead. "What happened?" She asked, walking to Theriad. She slid her hand across her face in an attempt to wipe away the grease. Little did she know she would only smear it further, but Theriad didn't want to tell her. He liked her unawareness when she did it.

When she reached him, a tender hand unwrapped the bandages, revealing a beaten and bloodied face. "You should be in the infirmary." She noted. Theriad nodded, saying, "I should be, yeah. But why do that when I could be here?"

If Amanda was blushing, she didn't show it. She looked to the ground and turned, gathering a rag. "Here. Sit." She ordered. Theriad hopped up onto her workbench as she pushed the rag against the side of his face.

"Did you win?" She asked. Theriad gave a slight grin, answering, "You could say that."

Her green eyes locked with his for a moment, and suddenly he forgot everything. He forgot why he got the wounds, why he was where he was, and especially his own eye color. _What color are my eyes?_ He asked himself. All he knew was that he loved looking at Amanda's. The green blended perfectly with her blonde hair, and slowly Theriad began to fall in love with everything about her.

"You know," She started. Theriad blinked. He moved his attention to Amanda and out of his blank state. "I have a feeling I'm gonna be doing this more than once." She finished. Theriad paused for a moment, interperating the words as if he lost their meaning. He blinked again.

"What makes you say that?" he finally asked.

"Just a hunch."

 **Author's Note:**

 **Well. Here it is. Chapter 2.**

 **Don't really know what to say for this Author's Note.**

 **I guess just read, review, follow, favorite, etc.**

 **Especially review.**


	3. Chapter 3

_The group entered the Vault, watching as the disks covering the entrance slid away. "Ghost. Get me a scan on this structure." Alaric ordered his Ghost. The Warlock stood back as his Ghost fluttered forward, putting forward a scan and calling back, "I can't get a position on it. I mean… it's here. On Venus… But it isn't a fixed location. It's like what we're looking at right now doesn't exist, or shouldn't exist… That being said, I can't get a layout of it."_

 _Kabr cursed silently._

" _Then we move." Praedyth ordered. He was the first to step in. "Do you have your head on straight? What the Ghost just said isn't exactly an invitation,_ Praedyth _." Pahanin spat. The Warlock stared him down. "He's right, Praedyth. But we still need to go. For the Traveler." Kabr reasoned. Pahanin muttered a curse, turning his body and stomping into the Vault like a child having a tantrum._

 _Once they entered, everything went quiet. The Ghosts stopped relaying information, the Guardians quit the banter, and even the footsteps were mute._

 _Vines and other plants were growing along the walls and floor of the Vault of Glass. "Ghost. What species of plants are these?" Praedyth asked, intrigued. The silence being broken suddenly shook the Guardians. He stopped to materialize his Ghost when Pahanin struck. "We don't have time for this, botanist. We're here to kill some Vex and stop the threat." Praedyth, once again, stared daggers into the agonizingly annoying Hunter._

" _And what exactly is that threat?" Nadar asked, a smile creasing her mechanical lips as she asked._

 _Later rather than sooner, they trekked through narrow passageways and eventually found their way to where they needed to go. "Seems like a straightforward path to death." Praedyth noticed. Even though the Vault was silent and didn't present any imminent threat, it still gave a cruel foreboding warning. Something that trigged a primitive sense in the Guardians._

 _Alas, they made the short journey without any resistance other than the footholds and massive fall danger. Now, they stood over a stone ledge looking down to the platform below. There was three rows, the middle one leading to a lower level of the platform. The left and right ascended to a higher level, leading to nothing in particular. They connected pathways to the back, with a ledge above the pit in the middle. "Ghost. What is this place?" Kabr gambled. "I don't have any particular records, but… The Templar's Well. I don't know who the Templar is or what this Well does. All I got was a name." The Ghost answered. His answer sent chills down the Titan's spine. No records but a perfect recollection of the name?_

 _Standing on top of a ledge overlooking the Templar's Well, Kabr ordered, "We do not know what awaits us below. It could be anyone's guess. But we will meet it with guns drawn and at the ready." "Spoken like a true poet." Pahanin retorted. "But was that truly necessary?" He said with that obvious Hunter grin. On the inside, however, he was glad their leader had spoken. It was reassuring to hear another's voice. And with that, the group descended._

 _At first, it was only a few Vex Goblins and Hobgoblins, harrasing the group but not causing any damage. They took them all out with ease. Handcannon shot here, sniper round there, auto rifle burst there. But it soon went downhill._

 _When the group was widespread, each of them confident that they could take on the small groups of Vex solo, that was when the Legions struck._

 _Dozens and dozens of Minotaurs flooded each Guardian's mini wave of Vex. They pushed Desmond's position, smacking him in the chest and causing the Minotaur's fist to cleave right through, leaving a gaping hole. Luckily Praedyth saw this massacre before the Vex could destroy his Ghost and he intervened._

 _The Guardians slowly grouped up in the center of the Well, fighting off the hords of melee-crazy Minotaurs and Harpies. Soon enough, though, the group was forced to the ledge of the Well, where they would make an almost inevitable plunge to their deaths._

" _Kabr! To your left!" Desmond shouted, just as a Minotaur swiped the air next to the Titan. He rolled back, preparing a blow of his own and sent it straight through the Minotaur's chest, spilling the milky substance within all over the place. The Minotaur fell dead and Kabr wiped the fluids off of him._

 _The Titan then went to knocking a Goblin back, stumbling the other Vex of the group as he pumped rounds of his shotgun into the crowd. Soon, the numbers on Kabr's side of things started to thin, so he went to assisting the others._

 _Pahanin and Praedyth took up arms defending the right side while Alaric, Nadar, and Desmond. Leaving Kabr alone defending the right pathway. They were backed up to the edge of the Templar's well, nearing the side and if pushed any further they would fall to their deaths. But slowly, they pushed up and forced the Vex back._

 _Kabr lunged forward, empowering his fists with arc light and slamming onto the ground with so much force it chipped away at the strange concrete. A wave of energy was surged forward, killing the line of Vex on the spot and leaving the rest to focus on the left side. Soon enough, the Vex that had once threatened the entire venture were taken care of and it was silent. Dead silent._

 _Then, off in the distance, the sound of a ringing. The sound reminded the group of a low-toned piano chord, and the group moved forward to investigate._

 _Another ring. To their left, a small flash of light portruded their vision but then disappeared. The tone came again, and slightly to its right another flash of yellow. This same pattern triggered about 6 more times, and left the Guardians clueless. "Ghost. What are those?" Kabr asked. His Ghost flew to the site of the flashing and scanned. "Nothing. I don't have a read on it."_

 _After a few more seconds, their right lit up again but something stayed. "What the-" Pahanin started. "Ghost. Scan that." Kabr ordered again, with his gun raised at the foreign object. "Ah!" The Ghost jittered. "That didn't tickle." It said to itself. As it went to scan, a small flash of light targeted at the Ghost and… shocked it. The Ghost paid no heed to it and continued his research, falling silent as it stopped._

" _Kill it." The Ghost muttered. "Kill it now."_

 _Kabr didn't think twice, and opened fire on the square object, its flashing of light growing more intense. Suddenly, it dispersed and completely disappeared from sight. Kabr approached his Ghost. "What was that?" he asked._

" _An oracle." the Ghost attoned. His voice was low and changed, and the light in the center representing its eye was flashing yellow. The same shade as the… oracle thing. "What does it do?" Kabr asked, hearing the tone behind him. The Ghost went into a frenzy, screaming, "Kill it!"_

" _What was that thing!" Kabr echoed again after destroying the Vex technology. He didn't like the feeling of having his Ghost become mad. The robot sounded genuinely scared and changed. Like this was a power the Guardians stood no chance against._

" _It… it's an insiteful vision, into the future. The Vex can predict the future, and make it so… a being… the Templar. He can make it so!" The Ghost cried. If a robot could cry, the Ghost would surely be doing that out of fear. Kabr forced his Ghost away, tucking the robot away in a stasis. "What is the Templar?" Alaric asked._

 _As if on cue, the center of the Well lit up, flashing a bright white light and finally stopping, a being appearing where the light had flashed._

" _Him!" The Ghost shouted. Kabr didn't need any more warning, and dove to the side as the Vex Hydra began pelting his group with void projectiles. Three torch hammer-esque shots slammed into the pillar he had his back to, shaking and sending shockwaves into the ground. "Retreat!" he shouted at his group as Praedyth, Nadar, and Desmond followed._

 _Alaric wasn't so lucky._

 _As soon as the Templar had appeared, it began to target the sorry Warlock. A projectile hit his chest, sending him flying to a newly appeared Oracle. His body hit it and the light flashed violently in the same way it did for the Ghost. Almost like tendrils of lightning were encasing the Warlock's body. The Templar kept pelting him with the projectiles, each one landing their mark and sending him further and further to death._

 _Suddenly, the rounds stopped and Alaric lay almost still. Kabr glanced at the Templar, who was hovering slightly taller than he had been before. Three orbs appeared at the Hydra's side and began to jerk violently when they suddenly returned, and the Hydra fell back to its original altitude._

 _Kabr looked back to where Alaric once was, and nothing remained. Not a single bit of evidence that his fellow Warlock ally was there. Slowly, every memory Kabr and the fireteam had of Alaric seemed to disappear, slowly fading away until finally they knew nothing of their Warlock bretheren._

" _The… The oracles!" Pahanin shouted, putting his hands up to his ears and screaming. "Pahanin! We must leave!" Kabr shouted, punching a Goblin to death. "Retreat! There is an opening!" He pointed, gesturing to the exit of the Well._

 _Praedyth, Nadar, and Desmond continued to the exit while Kabr fell to the ground, affected by a Templar's blast and landing near an oracle. "Pahanin!" he shouted at the dazed Hunter. The Guardian didn't listen, and instead began waltzing the opposite way and out of sight. He watched as his unsuspecting allies ran the other way, out of danger from the Templar and his armies and through the exit of the Well. It was just Kabr._

 _He crawled closer to the oracle, as voices boomed through his head. "Take the sustenance. Take the sustenance. Become one with us." The voices beckoned for him to go closer to the Oracle. He raised a fist, striking the yellow orb as it leaked the same fluid the Vex contain. "DRINK THE SUBSTANCE! YOU ARE KABR! WE WILL MAKE YOU OUR OWN! YOU WILL BECOME KABR, THE LEGIONLESS! DRINK THE SUBSTANCE!"_

 _And he did._

 _..._

" _Where is Kabr?" Nadar asked. Her white complexion and glowing blue eyes did nothing but illuminate the space they were walking through. A tunnel of sorts. She was an exo, and one that knew the Vex inside and out._

" _He… he must have been left behind with The Templar and those… things." Praedyth answered. "And what of Pahanin and Alaric?" She asked as if echoing her previous question._

" _Alaric?" Praedyth asked. The name sounded familiar. There was Kabr, him, Pahanin, Desmond and Nadar. But for some reason, he felt that there should be a sixth person…this...Alaric…_

" _Yes. Alaric. The Warlock!" Nadar shouted, gripping Praedyth's shoulder and staring him down. "Do you not remember?" She cried. Desmond shook his head. "I know nothing of this 'Alaric'. Nor does the name sound familiar. Must be the insanity settling in." he said._

 _But Praedyth knew that name. He knew the holder of that name… somewhere else. During his minor fit of Deja Vu, they reached light. The end of the tunnel. "Stop!" He called. The group froze and listened, careful not to make a sound. "Do you hear that?" Praedyth asked. In the distance there was an indescribable sound. Something human, exo, or awoken ears should never hear._

 _Praedyth risked peeking out, seeing illuminated white and grey Harpies. Fearing death, he jumped back to cover and consulted his Ghost. "What are those things?"_

" _My records are telling me they are 'Gorgons'. Don't ask how I know that, I've never encountered this species nor recall a record such as this." His voice made it sound like he was intrigued, as if he truly did not understand what he was saying. "Avert their gaze or be lost forever in the dark corners of time. The quote is from you." The Ghost explained. Praedyth shot him a worried look, knitting his brows and seemingly in deep thought._

" _Something isn't right," Desmond stated flatly._

…

"Ashur!" Theriad called. The Warlock didn't even need to hear another explanation at this point. They had fought against many threats together as a Fireteam that the Warlock knew what Theriad was calling to.

Without much effort, Ashur turned to his right and prepared a gift from the Void. It released from his hands in the form of a shapeless object, sailing straight to the ledge where the Fallen had just taken up a defense.

The Nova Bomb exploded in the middle of about 5 snipers, all of which were destined to take Ashur's airborne body out if he didn't. But that left him without an advantage against the Archon Priest; of which he was intending to use that on.

 _Damnit!_ Ashur called out, but his body was already flying to the Fallen's grip and he had no way to reverse his momentum. The Archon turned his attention to the exposed Warlock and backslapped him right out of the air.

"Well. He was screwed." Theriad muttered, crouching behind a rock as more Fallen began to pelt wire rifles and shrapnel launchers at it.

Marcus didn't budge, however. He dashed out of cover to where the Warlock lay, and where Aksor was preparing to kill the Guardian.

The Titan made it there in no time flat, just as the dazed Warlock began to stand. He slammed the ground, encasing a small diameter around him with a Void shield, protecting the two from their almost inevitable deaths.

Aksor, the Archon, pelted the shield with projectiles from his weapons. When none of them seemed to be doing the trick, the Fallen tried something else.

He charged into the bubble, kicking his leg forward in an attempt to dismay the Guardians. It worked, and the two were thrown out of Ward of Dawn with minimal effort on the Fallen's side. Ashur and Marcus lay vulnerable on the Venus gravel, as Theriad dove out of cover.

"Hey! Shithead!" He cried.

The Fallen turned his attention, right to Theriad who was standing out in the open. The move made little to no sense to the Fallen, all of who had their guns raised and pointed at Theriad. The Archon began to laugh.

The Hunter took advantage of this silence, of the Archon's laughing and sprinted to where he was standing. "Idiot." Theriad muttered. Through concentration, he willed solar light to course through his veins, igniting his wrists from the inside out and propping a magnum made from the sun itself.

Before the Fallen had time to recuperate from his fit of laughter, the Hunter slid between the Archon's legs and fired two Golden Gun shots into its chest, each one piercing through the Fallen's flesh and leaving a gaping hole in its wake.

When Theriad slid completely under the confused Archon's legs, he swivelled an 180 and leapt on top of the Fallen's back, propping the flaming gun against the back of the Archon's head and pulling the trigger.

After the shot, the Archon fell to the ground in a lifeless heap-of-a-corpse. Theriad turned his attention to the other Fallen, who had their guns down at their side. "Leave!" He screamed. Even though they couldn't understand English, they knew well enough to vacate. The Guardian sauntered over to his allies who were still on the ground, staring in disbelief.

"Well. Nice job." Marcus noted. "Thanks for leaving the body in one piece… somewhat." Ashur chortled, drawing his notepad and rushing to the dead Fallen's body.

Theriad knew well enough to not mess with Ashur's projects. The first time he encountered an Archon, he tore the subject limb from limb. Which, apparently, isn't good for studying. _But you can take a look at the inside!_ Theriad remembered saying. _JUST AS I WILL TAKE A GOOD LOOK AT YOUR INSIDES AFTER I'M DONE WITH YOU!_ Ashur screamed back. Theriad winced at the memory. Not exactly the best part of his career. Being maimed by a Warlock isn't always a fun way to go.

"Uh… Ashur?" Theriad asked, looking at the Warlock as Marcus stood by the Hunter's side. "We're gonna, uh, go to the Tavern?" Theriad asked more than stated. "You wanna come?"

The Warlock was prying at the Fallen's body, detaching an Ether tube from its neck and muttering, "interesting," but it wasn't an answer. After a little while of waiting, Ashur answered. "Uh… What?" he asked, turning his attention for a split second. "Oh. No. I don't want to go. You go on without me." He unattentively answered, then turning back to the Fallen corpse. "Al-Alright. Uh… Just radio us if you need anything." Theriad dismissed. With that, he put a hand around the Titan's shoulder and sauntered away. "Ah, finally. A nice drinking break." Theriad said with an outstretched hand, perfectly picturing how their night would go.

…

"And for your duties to the Vanguard and the City, we are rewarding you with a…" Cayde-6 trailed off, reaching under the table and returning. "I can't find it. Where did you put the Guardian's present?" He shot to Ikora. She answered back. "I have mine. I didn't touch your… _present."_ She spat. Zavala spoke. "We all would like to thank you, so we each presented you with a gift from Master Rahool."

They all pushed forward an armour piece. Zavala a helmet, Ikora a chest piece and leggings, and Cayde… a dusty rag.

"I have marked you with a helmet. Worn by legendary Hunters before you, it is an honour to be adorning this gear. Not to mention your… current attire." The Titan gestured at Theriad's torn and ratted clothing, which has seen better days. "The most important part of a Guardian's well-being is their armour. It is what shields them from-" "Yeah yeah." Cayde interrupted. "But have the most important thing… or at least I did. Can't find it now, so this will have to do. It was my first cape, you know." He said, holding out an extended hand with the small torn rag.

"Oh wait. I know what I did with it." Cayde exclaimed, throwing the rag back and pocketing it as he turned around. He plucked an ornate cape from the railing behind him, then saying, "Ta-dah!" And holding it out. This one was a lot nicer. "Don't want _you_ getting my prized possession. No offence."

On the left side, two gold stripes ran up the cape starting at a diagonal, then straightening out until the collar. On the right was a blue stripe of the same design. Slanting at first then correcting itself and moving straight. In the middle was a straight purple line. Each of the stripes faded in and got brighter as the cape's length went up all the way until the collar.

"For the Hunter. I can tell you're going to be a master of the Elements, so I crafted this just for you." The Hunter Vanguard added. There was a hint of happiness in his voice. Something that wasn't there before, and was the closest Theriad had seen him come to emotion. Theriad took the cape from his hands gently, holding it folded in his left hand.

Zavala's helmet was a lot nicer than the one he currently had. It was mainly black and mundane, but small gold etchings encased the armor piece and gave it a finishing touch. It was subtle but beautiful at the same time. "A standard model, modified by the gunsmith. Extra padding and design. A unique testament to your duties." Zavala said, holding his chin high.

Meanwhile, Ikora's armour pieces matched that of Zavala's. The chestpiece was mainly black and held many more sheaths for his knives, as well as other utility straps. It was mainly black, though the shoulders were decorated with the gold engraving of a wolf, and small golden widgets were littered across the chestplate. The legs were standard-issue black leggings with extra padding and reinforcement, obviously also better than the ones he bore now. There was no sign of gold, but they were decorated black to fit the design.

"Consider yourself important," Cayde spoke, just as Marcus patted the Hunter on his back. "Let's get to the Tavern now." He said, turning the other way with Theriad holding his armour.

…

Theriad was perched on the barstool with a water in hand. His gaze went to Marcus, who was laughing a few seats down with some of his Titan friends. They seemed to be having a good time.

It was weird to think about how many people Marcus knew. It seemed like he was only associated with Marcus and Ashur, the loners of the Tower. Where Theriad simply knew no one because of how long he'd been alive, Ashur _chose_ not to know anyone. But then there was Marcus, who appeared to have ventured with every Guardian in the Tower.

Theriad could understand and respect that, though. Marcus was a good guy. Enjoyable, neutral, and serious when he had to be. He could make jokes and sharpshoot like the best of the Hunters, could be intelligent and smart like the best of the Warlocks, and could be brawny and steadfast like the Titans. Theriad sighed.

The bartender approached Theriad while he was picking at an indenture in the island counter. "Hunter, huh?" He asked with a gruff and deep voice. "Yeah," Theriad muttered back. "Wouldn't picture you to be a water type, especially when you come to the City for a drink. And especially when you come to Stoneforged." He reasoned. Theriad nodded. "I'm...uh...waiting for someone." The Hunter answered. "Ah. Lucky date? She late?" He inquired. Theriad sighed again. "Say no more." The bartender finished, backing away from Theriad and back to his shelf of alcoholic beverages. As he began to give up hope and tip the man, someone took a seat next to him.

"Theriad?" The voice asked, and the Hunter eagerly turned his attention.

Instantly, his expression brightened and a smile was brought to his lips. "Amanda." He exclaimed. "Sorry, I'm late. Had to close up the shop." She said, her voice laced with an accent Theriad found intoxicating. "You're fine. Least I had the big guy over there to keep me company," Theriad gestured to Marcus.

Amanda looked back at him. "Glad you're enjoying each other's company." She scoffed. "2 shots of the strongest stuff you have." She ordered the bartender. The bartender nodded and prepared the order. "Oh. I don't drink-" "Tonight you do." She reasoned, cutting the Hunter off. _Such confidence._

"So, uh, tell me about yourself?" Theriad asked, wanting to make it a statement but not finding the courage to turn it that way. "What is there to know?" She asked, plucking the newly-laid shots and handing one to the Hunter. "Cheers." She added, throwing the liquid back as Theriad did the same, and returning to her question.

"I don't know. Just… tell me everything about you. I wanna know it all." Theriad smiled. "Everything?" She asked with a smile. Theriad nodded.

"Alright. Well, I came to the City after living somewhere...else. We entered the Tower with nothing but the clothes on our backs and our perseverance, all to the thanks of a Guardian. I personally entered mechanical workings, enjoyed working on machines. The Tower noticed this after a few years and took me in as the Shipwright and here I am. Not much to tell. Alright, now tell me about _you."_

"But-" Theriad began. Amanda shook her head, saying, "Ah. You never really specified. I gave my piece, now give yours." She said, sitting back in her chair and grasping another shot glass.

"Um. Well. I was a refuge from the City… kind of. At a young age my parents… kind of died. That left me alone at around 14. From there, I left the City because I had nothing. I went into the woods for about another 10 years or so, maybe more. I don't really remember. Somewhere along the line, I met Einstein here," Theriad paused, gesturing at his floating Ghost. "And he kinda followed me around, waiting for me to die." Theriad chuckled. "That was the longest 2 years of his life, he says. And quite frankly it was the longest 2 years of mine. I told him straight out I didn't want to die, and would only do so if I needed it. I'm scared of death, you know? I've only been killed once, by Ashur believe it or not," Theriad scoffed. "Anyways, I'm probably getting off-topic. I love chocolate cake, thunderstorms, fights," This time, Amanda laughed. "Yeah. You do seem to be good at those." She laughed, throwing back another shot as Theriad did the same.

"Heh. Yeah. I love red velvet cake as well, though I know it's just red chocolate, I love humor, love the night, the color blue, but I must say that I absolutely love your green eyes." He finished, unaware that the last comment had passed through his voice.

"Well." Amanda paused. Her eyes locked with Theriad, and he felt his face go red and his ears prick up. _Those green eyes… I could look at them all-_

"I-I'm sorry. I can't do this." She said, looking down immediately. Theriad blinked, turning back to reality. "Wh-What? Do what?" He asked, the conversations around them growing louder. He heard Marcus's voice tell some sort of punch line and laughter to follow shortly after, but he was focusing intently on Amanda's words.

"I don't… _date._ Not Guardians…especially not Hunt- I mean... I just can't do this." she cried, shaking her head and standing from the seat. "I'm sorry, Theriad." She finished, tossing a wad of currency on the counter and rushing out of the bar. Theriad blinked.

The clueless Hunter wondered why everything ended so sudden. _What did I do?_ Theriad asked.

His eyes closed for an instant and he reached to his side for the shot glass. Taking Amanda's as well, he downed them both and felt dizzy for the time being. He blinked and shook his head, stumbling to the door to get to Amanda, pushing against it and opening it.

He looked to his right, then to his left. She was almost a block down, walking down the dark city streets to the entrance of the Tower. "Am-" He started, losing his words instantly as he noticed three other figures appear from an alleyway.

Theriad straightened his vision, and watched their shadows. "Hell no." He muttered to himself, jogging down the street silently and watching the shadows creep up behind Amanda. _Don't say anything. Don't say anything._ He silently told himself. He didn't know how she would react if he had followed her out of the Tavern, so he would have to take the vigilante route if what he thought what was going to happen would indeed happen.

The shadows got closer to Amanda, just as Theriad was within 10 feet of them. One arm grabbed Amanda, twisting her around and shouting something with a deep voice. She loosed a punch on the man, and he stumbled back as two more flanked and held her arms.

Theriad intervened.

With a swift punch, he knocked the first assailant to the ground and kicked the second in the face, elbowing the third and turning away, his cloak hiding his face.

But the fight wasn't over. The first had already recovered and kicked Theriad's legs from behind, as they bent and sent him off balance. The hands gripped his shoulders and turned him around, as another punch landed in his face and sent him reeling.

He stood after falling as the three flanked him. "Wanna brawl?" One asked, wiping his mouth from the blood that had trickled down. "Let's brawl."

The first swung, and Theriad swiped to his left, stopping the punch midway and landing a knee to the chest. The second and third had a kick and a punch prepared for him, and the punch landed in his jaw as the kick effectively nailed him in the side.

Amanda shoved one away from behind but was met with a fist that had whipped around and smacked her to the ground.

"Monster!" Theriad shouted, letting his emotions get the best of him and sending him into a fighting frenzy.

He landed a kick in one's gut, backing up and bringing his knee to the bent-down face. He landed another punch in the gut and focused his attention on the other two.

 _I always seem to get into this exact fight._ Theriad muttered to himself. The first time he'd been engaged in this type of fight he'd insulted a Titan. The second, he was duelling the Titans, and now he was faced with the same unfair odds.

His foot planted once again in the attacker's face, stumbling him back as Theriad's free hand went to dislocating the last one's jaw. They all fell to the ground, and Theriad spit down at the ground, feeling the blood trickle yet again down his face.

"Leave." He ordered, staying a small time after to watch the attackers scramble away. It wasn't until he watched them walk away from the scene that he'd realised he had a knife in his hands. He looked down, seeing that his blade wasn't in the sheath, where it usually was. Cursing a slight amount at his anger, he slid it back in and turned the other way.

"Wait!" A voice called out behind him. He stopped walking, looking down at the ground and turning back to face Amanda. She was already on him, pulling his cloak back and looking at his face with the limited light there was around her. She smiled, looking him in the eye. "Seems to get worse every time." She retorted. Theriad grunted, ready to turn the other way when she stopped him.

"Wait. Let me patch this up…" She said, digging out a rag from her pocket. "I knew I'd need this again." Theriad's blood was stained into the cloth from the last time she'd cleaned his wounds. He smiled at its appearance, remembering the first time she'd done this. How close he'd felt to her. Being able to look into her eyes, see her complexion. Everything about her was just so perfect to Theriad.

The rag tenderly felt Theriad's wound. Right above his eyebrow, he could feel an opening. _That's gonna leave a scar._ He noted. But then again, he had more than he could count. What was one more for saving Amanda?

Her hand shifted to his left side as he was left staring at the ground, afraid to make contact with her perfect eyes. "I don't usually associate myself as a damsel in distress…" She trailed off. His heart began to beat faster, as if it were thumping out of his chest. Unable to control himself, he raised his head back up and locked eyes.

Slowly, his hand reached the back of hers and clasped it tenderly. He held it for a second, and he pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and staying in that moment with her for a short time.

She moved her head back after a few seconds, but they were still almost as close as they had been prior. Her hand moved down and Theriad's followed hers, finally holding it as she dropped the rag.

Then, everything stood still. Her lips touched his and time stood stationary, not moving. He closed his eyes for a brief second. When their lips parted, his forehead was back on hers, his eyes closed. "...but this time I don't mind." Theriad started relishing in the unexpected moment but started backing away, an unfamiliar emotion sweeping over him.

"I…" He started. He looked down, picking up the rag and putting it back in her hands as soft as he could manage, turning and rushing the other way. _Don't look back. Don't look back._

…

He burst into his room just as his Ghost appeared. "What's wrong?" The robot inquired. Theriad turned, rage ensuing his face. "I have no fucking clue." He said through gritted teeth. Collectively, he lost his temper and tossed his bed across the room, crashing through his limited supply of personal belongings. He unsheathed his knife and threw it straight through his wall, plucking it out and stabbing it into the ground, slumping his head down with his teeth still clenched, shedding tears.

"What… the… fuck…" He muttered, feeling the waterworks. He plucked the knife and continued putting dents in the metal floor, sometimes sticking a short ways through. Finally, he rolled to his side and examined his mess by laying down and glancing.

There was a knock at his door.

Theriad looked up, saying, "I'm not here."

But still, the door creaked open and Theriad looked up at his intruder. Marcus.

The Titan walked over his bed, which was strewn across his bed with its three parts: Frame, mattress, and covers/pillows. He glanced at the knife marks Theriad had made, as well as the dents in the floor.

"I know what happened." He said flatly. The teary-eyed Hunter looked up at Marcus. "And?" He asked, barely able to hold his voice from breaking from the one syllable word. "Don't give up. If you really want her, you won't let this put you down. I saw you two out in the street. That doesn't just happen, Theriad. It may be very young and early, but you two love each other. That much a brawny Titan can see."

Theriad looked up at Marcus with nothing but respect. When the Titan outstretched a hand, explaining, "Come on. Let's get this mess cleaned up," Theriad took it without hesitating.

…

Theriad knocked on the door silently. The night cascaded over the floor of the Balcony. Theriad, Ashur, and Marcus were all lucky to have their rooms on the Balcony area. Not only was it beautiful up here most of the time, but it was close to where they usually needed to be.

A faint voice came from inside. "Come in." Theriad took the invitation, opening the door and entering Ashur's lair.

"What is it?" he asked, his eyes fixated over the Archon's weapon. "Get your research?" Theriad asked. "No. Not all of it that I wanted, but I figured it was getting late on Earth, and my Ghost convinced me to come back." Ashur muttered, his eyes not moving from the weapon. "And you're welcome." Angel muttered. "Bah." Ashur spat.

"Look." Theriad interrupted. "I just wanted to thank you for what you did during that Crucible match. A few weeks ago. I haven't got the chance and you just don't know how much that meant to me. I'm glad I have you as an ally… as a friend." Theriad admitted. Ashur continued looking at the weapon, then saying, "I have taken a certain liking to you, Theriad. That being said, you're welcome." He said, adding nothing more but continuing to pry at the weapon.

Theriad clapped his hands together, signalling a miniature dust storm through Ashur's room. "Good talk." The Hunter tried, turning the other way and walking out the door.

…

"You know, you can be real cold sometimes." Angel insulted. Ashur stopped his research altogether, glaring at his Ghost and asking, "What makes you say that?" He growled. "Think about it. Theriad has little to no one to consult, and little to no one to confide in. You're probably one of the only people he can talk to, and you've built walls around him. You're not exactly the best talker, and you need to work on that."

"I don't need to take my walls down. He has to build his own. That's the only way to survive such a climate," Ashur muttered, remembering his only friends. What started his research crave in the first place. What caused him to separate from the rest of the world. Eris Morn. Eriana. Vell. The only people in the world that he could confide in, trust, and call friends. They were the first people he'd met and the last he wanted to. And now they were gone.

...

 **Author's Note:**

 **Just getting a sneaky chapter in for the weekend. Working on Outcasts Chapter 10, but no promises it'll be done by the end of this week.**

 **The part in the Vault of Glass is, I know, poorly written but I had to include it last-minute for a certain plot unfolding *Manical Laughter***

 **Asriel, thanks dood. Glad to see you're enjoying the collective series. Your review is much appreciated. Stay frosty.**

 **ALSO: One of you messaged me asking what these peeps look like. My best reference for Ashur is Jake Abel, the dude who played Luke in the Percy Jackson films, only with a 'softer'(?) face. Theriad looks a lot like the younger Jace from Magic: The Gathering in the Origins expansion. Marcus is pretty much Cooper from Titanfall.**

 **Anywho, Read, Review, Rate, etc.**

 **'Till the next one...**

 **Mwah hah hah hah!**


	4. Chapter 4

_What of my friends?_

 _ **The ones you abandoned?**_

 _I… had no choice. They just didn't understand the Oracles._

 _ **And you, a Hunter, did?**_

 _I am not a Warlock but I can still sense danger._

 _ **Assuming the Oracles were as dangerous as you say, what makes you think your friends are still alive?**_

 _You're right. What do I do now?_

 _ **You cannot go back to the Tower. They will disgrance you for running and doing nothing else. You will no longer fit in there. You must keep to the Wilds. Live off of the land.**_

 _Who are you?_

 _ **I am simply an advice provider. For lost people like you.**_

 _I'm crazy. You're just a voice in my head. I can still return to the Tower. I'm a Guardian._

 _ **Do you truly think that, Pahanin?**_

 _Yes._

 _ **Then you are wrong. Go ahead. Test your luck. But I will not be here when you return if you leave.**_

 _Ghost. Plot a course to the Tower._

 _ **You are truly insane, friend. This is inside of your head. Your Ghost cannot hear you.**_

…

The white clad communicator reached over to the helm, stroking it gently as if it were a lucky charm of sorts. A plume was decorated on the top. The fibers were painted black. But his hand grazed over the front of the helmet, where a purple line cut right down the middle. His fingers went over the dent, examining the point where it had sunk right into a Fallen Kell's head.

The Speaker sighed. "Some day, my son. You will return. I know you are out there." He said to himself.

The being put his hands off of the helmet, reaching over a book that he put correctly back on its shelf. A collection of Legends.

 _I must speak to the Traveler._ The Speaker thought to himself. It had been a while since he had last communicated with the God. Each one yielded the same type of conversation. A cryptic message that he had to solve and translate. Usually meant nothing. But sometimes it contained vital information. Notes on how the Light works, enemies rising. New threats. Etc.

The Speaker closed his eyes behind the mask, focusing on the energy the Traveler was providing him. That was how he communicated with the machine God.

But nothing. Not even a pang at his side. There wasn't a single trace that the machine God was even alive. He wasn't able to communicate. An eyebrow raised behind the concealing device, and he turned to face the window. Right where the Traveler was completely visible.

Then, like a train rode through his gut, the Speaker clutched his stomach, feeling thousands of times weaker than before. He fell to the ground, his hand tracing across his desk and across the books that were littered across.

He was on his hands and knees, the pain of being repeatedly punched surfacing his chest.

Then… it surpassed. Nothing else.

"It is being drained of the Light." He exclaimed.

…

Theriad stared at the ceiling, looking at a fixed position on the upward wall to stare at. His eyes still felt heavy, as if he hadn't slept in days. They hurt if they were open and stung if they were closed. He couldn't win.

 _What is wrong with me?_ He inquired.

Why did he turn his back on Amanda? Walk away after she clearly showed an interest in him? He'd been chasing her for so long… pretty much all of his new life. Which comparitively wasn't that long, so maybe that was the problem?

Didn't matter.

Theriad slumped his broken Hunter body over, still feeling the burns of the events that unfolded after Marcus left his room. He went to the outer skirts of the Cosmodrome, armed with nothing but the knife he used to tear up his room and took his anger out on the Fallen.

Of course, there was bound to be injuries that surfaced during that kind of activity. He was surprised he'd made it out. If anything, it was a testament to his amassed strength.

But now, it was daytime and his anger had passed. Nothing left but the fall.

Sadness swung Theriad up, getting proper clothes on and leaving his room, his Ghost following suit. "You should meet up with Marcus. He may be doing something?"

"No. We're going to the city." He said. It was about 6 o'clock in the morning and the sunlight hadn't shown all of the way through, giving a quiet feel to the Tower. If he wasn't so depressed he would have relished in the mood, but there was no room for that right now.

He hitched a ride to the end of the Tower, on the surface of the ground. A few blocks away and boom. He'd reached stoneforged.

The mood of the Tavern was calming to a weary soul. He loved the atmosphere, even when it was just now starting to open. There was only one bartender on station, as most city inhabitants weren't as broken as Theriad. Of course, there were a few exceptions.

He checked the time. 6:05. Five minutes after opening and he was already there. _Oh well. Guess this is what I've been waiting for all night._ Theriad reasoned.

He took a seat at the bar, looking at the female tender and asking for literally anything.

She fixed him up with a lager at first, and he drank it bottoms up within seconds. "Something stronger." The Hunter requested, wiping away a trail of the alcohol from his cheek.

She fixed him up with a shot glass, and he slammed it back. "More." He spat, throwing a useable currency on the counter other than Glimmer. "You should really take it easy, buddy. It's been 2 minutes and you've already-" She started. "I don't care." Theriad retorted.

…

"You should probably cut yourself off." The Ghost tried. "Can it, Einstein. I can drink however much I want!" Theriad shouted through slurred words. "Sorry for trying." The Ghost replied, disappearing from sight and leaving Theriad to down another drink.

It had been almost 12 hours of Theriad being at the bar. He had been doing nonstop binge drinking, which would kill any normal human being. But since he was a Guardian, his superhuman qualities allowed for him to burn through the alcohol with little to no repurcussions on the body itself.

Except his mental state.

Theriad and drinks were a dangerous combination. Putting an already unstable mind with a beverage ment to bring out the _in_ stability was a bad idea. In this case, two wrongs _do not_ make a right. Einstein knew this, but was powerless to stop his crazed Hunter.

Theriad checked the time. 8:43. And he still had so much currency to burn through.

He had become so drunk, he forgot why he was there in the first place. "Huh. Looks like that did the trick." Theriad muttered, tossing more cash on the counter. He hopped off the barstool and almost lost his balance.

He began to dig inside his head for a reason as to why he was drinking, but still couldn't find anything. "Ghost, why was I here?" He asked through drunken tongue. "Amanda." The robot flatly responded following a robotic sigh.

"Oh yeah. Fuck." He said, turning right around and snatching one final drink before making his way to the door.

With the shot glass empty and finally reaching the door, he tossed the glass mini glass aside and pushed open the door. "How do I get back to the Tower?" Theriad asked, slurring his words to an almost incomprehensible state. "Take a right." The Ghost responded with a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

"I'm tired of people telling me what I can't do. They say I can't be a pilot. I can't be a doctor." Theriad began after a long duration of silence and spitting everywhere. "What are you talking about?" His Ghost inquired. Theriad blinked.

"Nothing."

They began to walk down the street, almost reaching the Tower when a hand grasped Theriad's shoulder. He spun around and put his fists up in a boxing format, ready to punch. The figure who had done it had long black hair, painted down a pale face. Green eyes glowed despite the darkness of the night. Theriad blinked again.

"Who are you?" He asked, bouncing from side to side and preparing a punch. When the figure didn't answer more than just staring him down, Theriad threatened. "Fine. Don't tell me." He said, swinging at the figure.

The fist didn't even touch the stranger. The man's head bobbed to the side, and a hand clutched Theriad's wrist and tightened its grip. Theriad winced at the pain, looking down at his hand and seeing…. A robotic arm? His gaze darted straight to the man's flesh face, and to his other hand which was seemingly fine and not robotic. Of course, prostetics were commonplace, this kind was not. It looked like it belonged to a Vex robot, as if it had been attached to him by one.

"Listen to my words carefully." The gruff voice spat. Unreasonably deep for the man's form. Theriad couldn't stop staring at the arm though. "Take these coordinates and instructions with you everywhere you go. After you kill the Black Garden's heart, open this paper and lead 5 others into the Vault. Destroy the powers within. If they live, the City is always at danger. Do _not_ open this note until then, however." The figure spat. He handed him a crumpled piece of paper, and Theriad took it without thinking much of it.

The hooded one behind him approached, putting a hand on the man's shoulder and turning him. Theriad locked eyes with him once more until they turned the other way, walking down the other side of the desolate street.

The other man had no distinctive marks about him other than a particularly strange looking machine gun. Red and white stripes decorated it, and his hood was nothing more than a Hunter's cloak.

Instantly, sobriety hit Theriad as if his conversation cured him of being drunk. "What the hell?" he asked his Ghost. "Those signatures… they have Ghosts. Those were Guardians, and ones that should be dead. Or at least, that's what the file says."

"Who were they?"

…

 _I am alone…_ Praedyth thought. He looked at his left arm, at his Ghost. His arm was seperated at the shoulder, and in its place stood a Vex construct's arm. One that he had not put on, but one that _they_ did.

Where the arm was connected to his skin, the flesh was a greenish purple. It was infecting him, slowly turning his mind. He put on a half grin. "Ghost. Would you look at that? It's killing me."

The Ghost merely looked at its Guardian. It blinked. "Why did you do that?" It asked. Praedyth put a violent hand over the robot, clutching it tightly and growling at it.

"Quiet! They will hear you! And this was not my doing."

His eyes glowed a sinister red where the whites were, as if he were sick. The Ghost backed up. "We need to get you out of here. To the Tower. They can help you. You are insane." To Praedyth, the words were white noise. He began to think of Nadar and Desmond.

 _Desmond…_

The Guardian ripped the eye out of a Gorgon with his bare hands, but that didn't stop his death. Another took its place, staring him down and dissolving his form. And what came of Nadar Praedyth did not know. All he knew was that he was alone and out of the Gorgon's maze. Where he was safe for the time being.

Slowly, memories of Desmond began to fade. Praedyth tried to hold onto one in particular. His death. And his name. _Desmond, Desmond, Desmond._

He then remembered Nadar's words to him. Talking of an Alaric. One that he did not know, but one that must have been there. The Warlock figured this was what they did to… Alaric. Deleted him from their memories, only leaving a small bit and that was the familiarity with the name. As if he were erased from time. But he wouldn't let that happen to Desmond. His legacy would live on, even if he wasn't in this timeline.

But what of Nadar? He still held every memory of her. In perfect detail. They weren't threatening to leave or to become vacant in his mind, meaning she must be safe and probably alive...for now.

All the Warlock knew was that he sprinted for the end of it after seeing Desmond dissolve. He turned around only to see her gone from behind him. As if she'd disappeared as well. His fist hit the ground, shaking dust up as his head slumped back to the stone behind him.

 _Guardians make their own fate…. Guardians make their own fate…. Guardians make their own fate…._

…

Marcus was admiring the view the Balcony gave him. Of the city. Spotlights littering the sky and pointing at the Traveler and illuminating certain parts of the night. A half smirk hit his head. It was the same view he witnessed every night. Exact same placement of the lights, exact same spot and the exact same time. But why did it seem different every time?

He was a blank slate. Maybe that was why. Not much was known about him, but there wasn't much to know about in the first place. That was probably why he was so agreable with many different crowds. He was accepted in the quirkiest and most sarcastic of the Hunters. The strongest and dumbest of the Titans; and the smartest and intelligable of the Warlocks. It was probably because he was a sponge, soaking up the information around him.

He was a natural-born listener, and one that could sit and do nothing _but_ listen. He supposed he'd always been like this, even before he was brought back to life. He was one of the Golden Age-born. A rare commodity, and one that cursed him. He didn't remember anything about his past but apparantly had a better connection with the Light for being born during that time period.

 _Win some, lose some._

He turned around after his small sight-seeing break and would probably make conversation with a vendor. The gunsmith maybe? Discuss weaponry and 'how much guns should be oiled'. He could talk to the Cryptarch about precollapse events and the nations and empires before The Collapse.

Or maybe he could refrain from talking to anyone and go to the Cosmodrome. Kill some Fallen, bash some heads, gather some intel.

He began to think about what he would do during walking when a stranger approached him. Probably a Guardian walking the other way, crossing paths with the Titan circumstantially.

But the figure didn't move past him and instead stopped dead in front of him. "Stop." The hooded figure ordered. Must be a Hunter. The Titan obliged regardless, stopping but letting his hands fall to his side, where he kept an emergency sidearm concealed. Some Guardians had a certain instability about them.

"Yes?" Marcus asked. The figure reached out a hand, grabbing Marcus by the chestplate and pulling him closer. Meanwhile, the Titan's hands clutched around the weapon tightly until the stranger spoke.

"You have no idea what is coming. But you will. Heed my words, Titan. Avert the Gorgon's Gaze." The figure spat, pushing the bewildered Titan back and turning the other way, stomping off and leaving Marcus with his mouth gaping.

"Ghost?" He asked. There was no response to the metallic robot. "Who was that?" He continued.

"I… That can't be him..." The Ghost trailed off.

…

Ashur was alone in his room, where he had been for the past 24 hours. Sitting in the musty and stale room's atmosphere almost made him want to go outside for breathable air, but alas he continued his studies on the Vex's infrastructure. His books were not finished, especially not on the Vex. He didn't even want to get started on anything else once he was done. Especially not the Hive. That was a mess he had no intentions of delving in anytime soon.

His tweezers extracted a strange wire, just as his door was kicked open then shut again. The scholar dropped the tools and turned, only to see a handcannon pointed at his head.

"Do not move. And do not make a grab for that Fusion Rifle. I don't know how many times I've died to that…" His voice trailed off as if he were lost in thought, and the handcannon sank a little. After a second of recovery, though, it went back to where it was before, even more aggressive than before.

 _Died to it? What the hell is he talking about?_ Ashur asked himself. The figure began to talk again.

"Kill the Oracles. Do not study them. Everything you can possibly need for how they work is on this piece of paper," The man said, plucking a note out of his pocket and passing it over with his free hand. "Do not open it until Atheon is destroyed. Guardians make their own fate. Remember that."

And with that, the man turned the other way, his cape swiping through the wind and his form leaving through the doorway, just as he shut the door.

…

 **Author's Note:**

 **Putting this out now because I had it typed out beforehand**

 **No editing for this one unfortunately. If any plot point seems convuluted or you see gramatical issues I can't fix them at the moment. I'm typing this with one hand because my right one had a glass cup shatter right on it. (Washing it.) So I'm waiting for this to heal.**

 **Unfortunately that also means Outcasts Ch. 10 won't be out as soon as I wanted it to.**

 **I'll be back when I can, and come back to editing this chapter so I guess be on the lookout for that.**

 **Also yes I did put a IASIP (It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia) reference in this.**

 **'Till the next one.**


	5. Chapter 5

Theriad began a mad pace of studying, of recalling through ancient articles and texts to try and find an answer. His...confrontation with the other two Guardians was strange and piqued a lot of interest from the Hunter.

He sat down at his desk and threw a dusty book in front. _Legends and Mysteries Vol. 34_. He flipped the page over, reading the text that was spackled on the page.

As Theriad moved his head to the right, he noticed something odd. His room was beginning to look more and more like that of Ashur's, of whom he hadn't seen for four days. Suddenly, his Ghost appeared.

"You should probably go outside and kill things. I told you who those Guardians were… or at least what the signature was telling me." His Ghost seemed lost in his words, as if indecisive of its decisions. Like it wanted Theriad to go out but at the same time wanted him to find out the mystery. "You could talk to Ashur." His Ghost suggested.

"No. I can tell when I am unwanted. The energies the people contain are different than usual. Their body language. Ashur reeks of the signs." Theriad spat, turning the pages skimming through and trying to find an entry that would help him.

"Theriad. This is insanity. You are obsessed." The Ghost spat. Theriad looked up for a moment through bloodshot eyes and shot back. "I know what you told me and it doesn't give me any clarity. I know what the Vanguard told me and I am still clueless. No one else is going to solve this, so it's up to me." And with that, he returned to his reading.

"That's not true. You know Ashur would help."

" _That's_ not true. Ashur is concerned with _his_ research and _his_ research alone." Theriad said through gritted teeth.

…

 _What is that? Down the woods. I'm detecting a life form._

 _ **2 Years in the woods and one goes truly insane, I suppose. It's nothing. There's nothing there.**_

 _No. There truly is something. If only my Ghost were here…_

 _ **That robot did nothing for you except bring you back, and look at you now. Trust my instincts as you always have, dearest friend. It's just you and I. Alone.**_

 _We aren't alone if there is something-_

 _ **DUCK!**_

A bullet whizzed past Pahanin's face, and narrowly missed him as he ducked to the side.

 _Told you._

He rolled to the side, bringing up his prized and precious machine gun at the direction of the bolt. He pulled the trigger for a solid twenty rounds, peppering the area with fast-spread bullets, some of them returning since none hit their mark.

 _Warning shots._

 _ **That isn't the truth and you know it. You just have a horrible aim. I learned this since the day we met, and made… modifications to suit your needs…**_

 _Buzz off._

He moved forward, no longer detecting the life form but knowing that he had not hit the assailant. All of the rounds had returned as they were supposed to.

 _Call it what you will, but not even the most skilled marksman could shoot this with much more accuracy than I provide._

He creeped forward through more trees until a gust of wind was upset behind the Hunter.

Quickly, he turned just as a fist smacked him in the bare face.

Out of instinct, Pahanin raised the gun and prepared to fire, just as a dark handcannon was raised. It was black, but jagged pieces of metal were sticking out from the sides. It gave it a sinister take, filling Pahanin with desolation and despair, sending a cold chill into his heart.

 _ **Your leg. It is under his form. If you pull it back, you could probably set him off balance.**_

Pahanin tried to listen to the voice, but was instead intrigued by the figure. He appeared to be a Hunter with his build, if he even was a Guardian.

"Who are you?" Pahanin asked through a short and rough voice. He hadn't spoke to anyone since his Ghost left him, which was over a year ago. It felt painful, but still relieving.

"Your demise. The Sword Logic demands I kill you to gain power. To become superior. So tell me this, Hunter. What is your purpose?" The attacker asked. Pahanin raised an eyebrow as his leg tensed.

 _What is my purpose?_

 _ **To survive. But that doesn't matter. Defend yourself, great Hunter.**_

"To survive. To keep living." Pahanin answered. The figure sighed. "Well then this was too easy. I must call you lucky. You got to see your downfall rather than have it take you suddenly. Which is strange. I have never missed. Ever."

With that, the figure flicked his handcannon to be placed over Pahanin's head.

The Hunter pulled his leg back, just as it hooked on the enemy's leg, stumbling him as the shot rang out right next to Pahanin's head, as the assailant was stumbled.

Without mercy and without hesitation, Pahanin raised his machine gun and began firing, endlessly pulling the trigger into the enemy.

This time, the rounds didn't return.

…

Ashur was silent in the cockpit of his ship. He let the Ghost do the majority of the talking on the way there. It was the one thing that kept his sanity. Angel's voice.

"Why haven't you told anyone about her?" Angel asked. Ashur turned his head away from the viewport that was displaying the image of hyperspace and moved it to his Ghost's form. "Tell who about what?" He asked in rebellion, trying to dodge the question for as long as possible.

"You know who. Why haven't you told the Vanguard about her?" She repeated.

"It is their secrecy that keeps them alive. You know that, Angel. It's a miracle they survived, and the world is better with the majority of them thinking they are dead. Keeps the idiots out of the Vault." Ashur coldly stated. He was known for those types of explanations.

"And why are we meeting her again?" Angel asked. "You know where we're going. Why we're meeting her," Ashur stated somewhat matter-of-factly, though he did not fully understand why. He knew that his presence was requested at the Temple of Crota, but the reasoning was still unknown.

"Maybe if you could tell me some of this stuff I would know." Angel muttered.

…

Ashur's boots hit the Moon's surface with a small _THUD_ that reverberated throughout his body, though he could not hear it. He walked forward from where he had landed with his helmet on, approaching the Temple of Crota.

An itchy trigger finger went to his scout rifle as his uneasyness was publicly shown. There wasn't anything around for him to be uneasy about except for the ominously closed temple.

Then, the flash of a transmat to his left. She was here.

…

Theriad turned the page aggressively. On the next one was a diagram hastily scribbled and plastered on the page. There wasn't anything in there about the Fireteam that had entered the Vault of Glass. As if it had been erased from parts of history.

But the Hunter refused to believe that. He refused to accept that the people he so vividly saw and was able to describe were faded from time. The Vanguard recognized them, so why shouldn't these books have them?

The more he read the more he realized he was slowly becoming a Warlock. Or even worse, Ashur…

He figured his Ghost was right. Reading and studying was against a Hunter's nature. Not only that, but he hadn't had any contact with anyone but his Ghost for a few days. Hadn't even had anything to eat. Marcus might be wondering what in the hell happened to Theriad if he wasn't already on a mission with Ashur. Maybe Ashur was up to something as well. _Wouldn't hurt to go check._

He stood from his desk and back to the dust-covered remainder of the room. He hadn't used anything but the chair, desk, and floor around that area for a very long time and the rest was naturally covered in dust. Much like Ashur's room.

Moving slowly and groggily throughout the room, he found his way to his casual and comfortable clothes, of which he hadn't worn for a long time. He still had his armor on as well from when he was at the bar.

His hand wrapped around the doorknob after he had changed, ready to jerk the door open and leave.

But something stopped him. It was the thought of someone he hadn't seen for a while. Someone he had wanted to, but was too busy trying to find out what happened to him at the bar that day. It was Amanda.

...

"Nadar." Ashur flatly spoke. He was from the behind of her, looking at the torn and tattered cloak that she wore when he announced his presence.

To his welcome, she merely turned around and offered the second flat greeting. "Ashur."

"What is it you requested me for?" The Warlock asked, clutching his scout rifle tighter as his eyes darted around the moon. There was always trouble brewing up here. He never liked it.

"It's the Vault. I need you to tell me about this Hunter friend of yours." She stated, her blue eyes glowing brighter and the smug expression growing more noticeable as time went on. "Hunter friend?" Ashur asked, trying to dodge the question. He knew he couldn't, however.

"Do not lie to me, Warlock. I know everything. Why is he looking into our existence? Pouring into records, asking around, spending days trapped in his room. Why?" She asked with a sharp tongue. Ashur looked puzzled at her asking, as though contemplating something.

"You mean he knows about you and Praedyth?" Ashur asked. Nadar looked at him, a deep sorrow in her expression and no longer portraying the smug look she usually held. "Not just Praedyth and I. Pahanin, too. He is with us as of recent." She replied.

Then, it all came together. The reason Theriad was searching and trying to find answers, as well as the identity of the figure who busted into Ashur's room. Pahanin.

"You were the ones who gave us the warnings? I am certain Theriad got one, elsewise he wouldn't be crazed as he is now. I got one too. A warning about the Vault?" Ashur asked.

Nadar replied quickly, "Yes. That is why I've requested your presence here, on Luna. To discuss the Vault."

...

 **Author's Note:**

 **Wow. Yeah. Totally got carried away in writing and other life events to realize it's been quite a while since I've posted anything. This chapter hasn't gone through many grammar revisions of the sort. Outcasts should be up as well, as much as I've been saying that.**


End file.
